


Extra Cheese

by thismighthurt



Category: VICTON (Band)
Genre: Cinderella References, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pizza, Spiders, Toilets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:01:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24973501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thismighthurt/pseuds/thismighthurt
Summary: Sejun’s quest to find the cute guy who delivered him pizza goes far better for everyone else than it does for him—until, eventually, it does work out. (Warning: one very large spider ahead.)
Relationships: Choi Byungchan/Im Sejun
Comments: 18
Kudos: 76
Collections: Lucky 7 Victon





	Extra Cheese

**Author's Note:**

> a huge huuuuuge thank you to jae and to julia, who read through this even when it was written by someone who never learned to read. everybody say, thank you, jae and julia!!!
> 
> my prompt was: when sejun puts "please send someone who can kill spiders" in his pizza delivery notes, he doesn't expect the delivery boy to be this cute. (and suddenly the fact that he can't kill the spider that plagues his bathroom is much more embarrassing.)

  1. Nobody



“He had a motorcycle.”

Chan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course, he had a motorcycle, Sejun; he was a pizza deliveryman.”

Sejun turned away to sadly inspect a slice of deep dish that looked like it might temporarily fill the hole in his heart. Maybe if he paired it with a plate of pasta, the resulting not-sadness would last a couple of hours.

There really shouldn’t have been a place for all the drama of late, not in the blinding sunshine and not in the way it streamed through the glass frontage of their local pizza joint—but Im Sejun was Im Sejun. This was _serious_ , and he’d feel whatever he damn well wanted to, he figured, pointing an almost angry finger at the deep dish slice so the restaurant staff could heat it for him. 

That’s just how things were, for now. On a sweltering day in Seoul, where even the shaded, winding streets of their university neighborhood weren’t spared from the slow bake of the city, Sejun was back at a pizza place trying to catch a glimpse of the cute guy who delivered his pizza the other night.

Chan wasn’t done yet, though. “How many times are we going to go through this? How long are you going to keep pining over a summer fling?”

“I’ll have this one,” said Hanse to the young woman behind the counter, who left to heat his pizza too.

“It’s not a _fling,_ hyung,” Sejun whined. It might have been lost to the pop music on the speakers and clang of the open kitchen in the back. “And don’t say ‘ _summer_ fling’ like it’s not still summer, and I don’t still have a chance at _love_.”

“Amen,” Hanse said, and Sejun was going to accept that for his declaration, and not just the pizza the woman had passed over to them.

Chan eyed Hanse’s slice hungrily, though there was still an edge to his gaze. “Okay. How many times will we have to eat here?”

Sejun’s smirk was wolfish in response. “Do you see this guy?” he asked, slinging an arm around Hanse. “He’s not lactose intolerant but he’s not entirely lactose _tolerant_ either, but twice last week, he spent 2 am on the can, for love.”

“For _love_ ,” Hanse echoed, breathing in a good, healthy lungful of the neighborhood pizza joint air. He went in for another sniff of his own slice and let his eyes roll right back into his head.

“You could’ve just said, ‘as many times as it takes,’” said Chan, turning his eyes skyward as if in prayer. “You could’ve just said that and I would’ve understood the same thing.”

“You’re not understanding the love part,” said Sejun, gesturing some pasta out to the server now as well. “Or at least the serious need to—"

“Yeah, okay, I can’t take this anymore,” said Chan. As soon as the pizza lady came back, Chan’s dimples made their appearance, and even Sejun was momentarily blinded.

 _Oh, god_ , thought Sejun, _he means Business._

“Hi,” Chan smiled. “Do you have an employee who works here who’s, uh…?”

“About yea high,” Sejun supplied, holding his hand a little above his head. “Super cute?”

“Black hair,” Hanse added helpfully.

“And he’s got like… a _nose_ , y’know?” Sejun outlined his own nose with his thumb and pointer, just to drive the point home. “And _eyebrows_.”

The lady behind the counter blinked.

“I’m so sorry,” said Chan glibly. To his credit, his smile had only slipped a little bit. “I one hundred percent assumed he was looking for Lord Voldemort before all this, also.”

Both Hanse and Sejun ignored this. Hanse clapped suddenly, eyes wide like he’d remembered something, and suddenly Sejun had too.

“The most important part!” he told the lady. “Dimples. The best you’ve ever seen, which is saying something, because you’re looking at the three of us right now. Our guy’s got two of them, on either side of his cheek, so deep that—that _mmmmrrpph,_ you know?”

“He’s also got really lush eyebrows,” Hanse reiterated.

Chan had stopped smiling. “You know what—”

“Actually—"

All three of them surged towards the counter. The pizza girl stepped back and hurriedly found her grip on the pizza cutter.

Sejun at least still had enough good sense to step back. “Do you know who we’re talking about?”

The lady shook her head. “I was going to say that I’m sure there is nobody like that who works here.”

“Ah.” Sejun was smiling, but it suddenly felt like that day where, as a child, he’d gone fishing with his father and had only managed to pull up the waterlogged remains of an old balloon. Today, he was simultaneously the balloon and nine-year-old Sejun appraising the mess on his hook.

Chan must have caught sight of the kind of smile he was wearing. “Are you sure, miss? Not even anyone matching that description, but a lot less love-of-his-life than my friend perceived him to be?”

“The only other people who work here are women and a middle-aged man,” she said, looking a little wistful.

And what could they do after that but say their thank yous and slink off to a table? It was Hanse’s turn to sling an arm around Sejun, who melted into the hug.

“Say _ah_ ,” said Chan, and as Sejun complied, put the end of a breadstick in there for him to eat.

“Doesn’t make sense,” Sejun said around the mouthful. Then he took a large, pensive bite of his own deep dish. For a while, they ate in silence, and Sejun couldn’t help thinking it tasted way better when someone cute delivered it.

  1. Hanse and Chan



What else could Sejun have said that night?

_“Sometimes you just need four pizzas,” said the pizza deliveryman, nodding sagely. “I get it, I get it.”_

_“Right?” That did it for Sejun, and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “Though I do have roommates. They’ll probably be home later.”_

_“’Probably,’” the deliveryman had pointed out, letting his dimple carve a space on one of his cheeks. “Enjoy your pizzas, man—”_

In present time, Sejun’s ringtone was _jarring._

He got the call from Hanse ten minutes into the nth episode of One Piece: “We’re at the hospital—” oh, shoot, and that was _Chan_ ’s voice, on Hanse’s phone, “—Do you think you could bring Hanse some pants?”

“I didn’t pee myself!” Hanse’s voice came through in the background. “And I’m fine! And hyung, he was _here_!”

Then the line went dead.

Sejun had never run so fast.

“First of all, Hanse really is fine,” Chan said, like Sejun hadn’t sprinted three blocks with Hanse’s pants flying behind him like a flag. “Really, the only thing wrong with him is that he’s not pressing charges.”

“It’s like I stepped into a toilet. I’ve got Toilet Leg. No, wait, this is worse than Toilet Leg. Canal Leg is the equivalent of maybe three Toilet Legs.”

“Some turd on a moped nearly ran us over, and you dropped into an open drain,” said Chan. “I think ‘Toilet Leg’ is the least of your problems.”

“You’d only think that if you’ve never had Toilet Leg,” Sejun sighed. He hugged Hanse’s head to his chest, despite the smell emanating from him in general. “I’m so glad you’re okay, though.”

“The most important part,” said Hanse, muffled against Sejun’s arms. “My hero was your pizza boy—AH, HYUNG!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Sejun released Hanse’s head. He’d been a hairsbreadth from cracking his skull open. “Your _what_?”

“He was walking by, and he helped Chan-hyung pull me out of the drain,” Hanse explained. “Honestly, you were right; he’s so handsome I actually thought I’d died. But then I almost dragged him into the canal with me and he screamed like—”

His words were almost lost on Sejun, who was trying very hard to get the cogs in his brain whirring again, to almost no avail.

“I’ll tell you more after I change my pants,” said Hanse, “But now we know his name is Byungchan.”

(And they were walking home when Sejun suddenly punched violently at the air and said, “I could’ve asked for his _name!”_ )

  1. _From sbub [1:48pm]_



Hey. If he was around to pull Hanse hyung out of the drain, then he’s probably from around here

Hyung what did u say Byungchan looked like

Hot

Seen 1:52pm

The fact that you typed that out, jung subin

WAIT I NEVER TOLD YOU HIS NAME WAS BYUNGCHAN

He’s an acting major. We’re in class together

Holy shit Sub

Lmao hyung he remembers you

  1. Seungwoo



“This is the pizza delivery guy you’ve been looking for,” said Chan, almost bodily dropping a whole person much larger than himself in front of Sejun. “Hyung, change his mind.”

The person in front of Sejun clearly wasn’t Byungchan, but wasn’t _ugly_ , per se—quite the contrary; in fact, it was Seungwoo-hyung. He gave a bemused smile before saying, “I really think you should just find a way to call this Byungchan.”

Sejun peered around Seungwoo to pout his lips at Chan.

“Dimple,” Chan pointed out. “Black hair. Nose. It’s just so sad that he and Seungsik-hyung are practically married; but you love them both, so it’s alright.”

Seungwoo and Sejun almost sighed in sync as Seungwoo slid onto the bench next to him. Seungwoo motioned Chan to sit, and all Chan could do was also sigh and practically drape himself over the table.

“Forget that I’ve never delivered a pizza in my life. Now, what is it about him that’s got you so hung up?” Seungwoo asked kindly. “You were acting like he left before midnight. Now you’ve gone and smashed his glass slipper yourself.”

Sejun opened his mouth, but paused. Seungwoo was right. Ever since Subin had let it drop that Byungchan remembered him from Sejun’s five minutes of accepting a pizza, he’d been feeling like a spooked cat, all hackles raised and ready to bolt.

It wasn’t anything Byungchan had done. Sejun had visited the pizza parlor really just wanting confirmation that Byungchan wasn’t just a fever dream, and to maybe leave a Review or something that he appreciated the Art (the Art, read: Byungchan). But he’d underestimated how close their circles ran, and now he was scared of how this made him think of such unthinkable things— things like how it would be very cool if he could hold Byungchan’s hand and make him laugh again.

“You’ve had crushes before, Sejun,” Seungwoo reminded him not unkindly, but also not innocently. “Why haven’t you stopped thinking about this one?”

 _By far the best smile_ was on the tip of Sejun’s tongue, but Seungwoo decided to revise his sentence: “Sorry, I guess I mean: Why are you suddenly _afraid_ of this one?”

Sejun decided to answer truthfully, then: “I’m afraid of what he’s going to say.”

There _had_ been something, on the tip of Byungchan’s tongue, that night he’d brought the pizza over. He’d brushed aside his too-loose restaurant vest and kind of stretched his pout and his nose around before fixing his eyes on Sejun.

Sejun remembered staring back, transfixed and expectant.

Byungchan had opened his mouth—only to close it again, smile, and shake his head. He’d waved bye with his fingers and it would only be when he was teetering off on his little motorcycle that Sejun would even think to say, “ _Wait!”_

“He was going to say something,” Sejun said to Seungwoo and Chan now. “I mean, I hope it would’ve been something like, _we should hang out sometime_ , instead of like, _I only hang out with people who aren’t afraid of Hisoka in HunterxHunter_ , y’know?”

Seungwoo couldn’t quite manage the snort that threatened to come down his nose. Sejun chuckled and waved it away.

“I couldn’t say much to him after that, and I couldn’t even ask him what was up,” Sejun continued, stretching, letting himself relax with the admission, “Now I know I want to ask him out. Now I know I _could_ ask him out. But _should_ I?”

“If he doesn’t at least let you down easy, I am putting rocks in his tailpipe,” said Seungwoo calmly, and Sejun felt his blood pressure skyrocket.

Chan, though, burst out laughing. When he was finished, he said, “He helped me pull Hanse out of a drain. That’s already a lot better than some of the guys you’ve liked in the past, man.”

Seungwoo smiled. Then he checked his phone as it buzzed, and Sejun watched his smile grow wider and slyer. “I have a gift for you, actually.”

**_From Jung Subin <3_ **

_We’re square now okay!!!_

_+8233********_

Sejun’s eyes went wide. “His _phone number?!”_

Seungwoo giggled. “That’s not quite the gift yet.”

Finally, Sejun caught sight of Subin’s most recent message.

_He’s wondering why Sejun hyung’s taking so long to call_

  1. Byungchan



Sejun learned at a very young age that he couldn’t call 119 when spiders were involved.

In a rare stroke of brilliance, Sejun pulled up the pizzeria website instead. _Send someone who can kill spiders,_ he typed. That way, he could get dinner AND a spider slayer in less than 45 minutes, or it was free.

He pat himself on the back, which was tragically short lived, because the spider was hanging out on his bathroom ceiling and maybe Sejun really, really needed to _go_. He’d just begun wondering if he’d ever be able to live down being arrested for public urination when the doorbell finally, blissfully rang.

Naturally, it was Byungchan.

Byungchan let out a staccato “oh!” of surprise and pointed at Sejun as he stood gaping at the door. Sejun’s knee-jerk response was to swing the door back shut and stare at the dark wood that now hid Byungchan from view.

His heart was pounding louder in his ears than any coherent thought.

“ _Hey_!” said Byungchan, nasally and petulant, from outside the door.

Sejun pulled the door open again.

“Mighty fine behavior for someone who’s been looking for me for so long,” said Byungchan, eyes narrowed, giant pizza bag balanced against a cocked hip. Despite the venom in him, his dimple still poked through when he talked, and Sejun felt his soul slowly begin to leave his body.

“I’m sorry,” Sejun managed. It was taking every ounce of strength to not shut the door again. “I panicked?”

“Damn right, you did,” said Byungchan. Then he paused, like he’d remembered something. “You said something about a spider?”

Sejun opened the door wider and gestured for Byungchan to enter. 

_Now is the hard part_ , thought Sejun, though he’d also thought that when he’d taken an incredulous second glance through the peephole and again when he opened the door to all 180-ish centimeters of Byungchan. Now Byungchan had shucked off his shoes and was standing in the small living room in his socks, waiting for Sejun to lead him through the apartment.

Sejun felt like his heart was going to exit his body from any opening, at any moment. He couldn’t even tell from where. Rooting him to the welcome mat by the door were the giant, ridiculous truths about Right Now that he felt he was seeing for the first time: how he’d only still been mustering the courage to call, how he needed someone else to kill a spider for him, how maybe they’d flirted a little the last time Byunghcan had brought a pizza in.

Most of all how he’d let someone as gorgeous and elusive as Byungchan catch wind of his huge, fat crush on him.

Byunghcan set the pizza bag down on Sejun’s kitchen counter. “That’ll be, um… Some money. The receipt’s in here, somewhere.”

“I paid in card,” Sejun coughed nonchalantly. “The, um, spider’s in the bathroom.”

Byungchan gestured, like, _lead the way_ , and so Sejun did, cracking the bathroom door open a smidge only to shut it very quickly once again.

“You do that a lot,” Byungchan smiled.

Sejun plastered a smile on his face and opened the door once more.

Byungchan stepped in close, peering around him into the bathroom. “Woah!”

“You see why I closed the door?” Sejun managed, though he noted how Byungchan’s shirt hung off his frame like on a hanger, and how nice his collarbones were. _Nice_ nice. “Uh, I mean, so, is that thing actually too big? Should I call animal control, or something?”

Byungchan looked like he was going to shoot Sejun a look, but instead he let out his staccato note of surprise again. “It’s on the move!”

Sejun sprang back from the door. Byungchan, on the other hand, slid into the bathroom.

“Don’t--! Ah! Be careful,” Sejun begged from across the small hallway.

“I’m alright!” said Byungchan. “I might knock some things over, though!”

 _Bang. Crash._ Every noise felt like Byungchan’s death on his conscience, and Sejun felt his stomach sink through the realization that this was an awful first date, if it had to count as one. Then an eerie silence followed the cascading sound of toppled body wash bottles.

“... Byungchan?” Sejun hazarded.

“Sorry. It snuck into the little crevice in the ceiling. I’ll just wait a little in case it moves again, okay?”

“Uh, good strategy,” said Sejun, moving to sit on the floor. “Um, thank you.”

“No problem,” said Byungchan automatically. Then, they lapsed into silence again. The soft sounds Sejun could hear was presumably him shifting from foot to foot in his shower.

“Would a broom be helpful?” Sejun said, the same time Byungchan said, “So you haven’t called me yet, huh?”

Sejun let his eyes shut slowly. There were very few times he’d wanted to disappear harder than right now.

“I haven’t,” Sejun replied, right as Byungchan also said, “Yeah, I think a broom would be good.”

“Sorry, I mean—” said Sejun.

“Sorry I asked; I just thought—” Byungchan started. Then, in the awful silence that followed, he managed the softest, tinkling laugh that played Sejun’s heartstrings like a harp and made him think _maybe,_ maybe he could do this.

“You first,” said Byungchan, and Sejun could kind of hear him smiling.

“I got your number from Subin the other day, yeah,” Sejun began. What else could he do now, though, but keep it real? Did Sejun even _have_ an image to protect? “I’ve been working up the courage to call,” he said, his voice going a little higher than intended, at the end.

“Oh? But why would you be scared of me?”

“First of all, I wasn’t sure you were real,” Sejun admitted. “Then it was more like, I hadn’t really thought of how to ask you out, if you were real—which I really didn’t think you were, at some point, because the pizza joint said you didn’t work there.”

Byungchan was quiet for a beat too long. “Yeah. I don’t work at Venice Pizza, actually.”

“See, so—wait, what?”

“I _really_ don’t work at Venice Pizza,” said Byunghcan, and Sejun could almost hear the grimace in his voice. “My uncle just owns the place. The real delivery girl has to study for civil service exams, so my uncle makes me work when she doesn’t show up.”

“No, wait—” Sejun felt a headache coming on, because there was more than one thing wrong with what Byungchan had just said. “Are you _not_ delivering pizza from Ramone’s?”

“Ramone’s?” At this point Byungchan poked his head out of the bathroom to fix Sejun a Look, all mussed hair and furrowed brows and generally puppy-like. “You pulled up the Venice Pizza website and ordered two Sicilian pizzas—which is two less than you ordered last time?”

Sejun felt like his brain was trying to singlehandedly debug the entire Matrix. _Of course_ he wouldn’t have found Byungchan at that pizza joint he, Hanse and Chan had asked around at—it wasn’t even the same pizza place that Byungchan apparently _didn’t_ work at.

“I’m feeling like this is surprising to you,” said Byungchan.

“Not gonna lie,” Sejun shot back, “Absolutely yes.” _I definitely had me in the first half, there_ . _Thank you for almost nothing, Im Sejun from two weeks ago._

Despite Sejun’s worst expectations, though, Byungchan smiled, bright and easy, before he retreated into the bathroom. “I think I’m pretty real.”

“I’m still having trouble believing that.” The words were out of Sejun’s mouth before he could stop them. “You’re extremely cute, _and_ brave enough to kill a spider for me.”

Sejun thought he heard it, Byungchan’s soft gasp, but it was soon swallowed up by him yelling, “HA, it’s moving!”

_Bang! Plunk! SPLASH!_

Then, more silence.

“I got the spider,” came Byungchan’s voice from the bathroom, suddenly.

“Thank you,” said Sejun, but he didn’t really know how to phrase the next part. “Uh…”

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“Did one of your feet land in my toilet, somehow?” said Sejun, for lack of a better way to put it.

Sejun got up and pushed gently into the bathroom. Byungchan had his lips pursed unhappily, the spider squished in some toilet paper in his one hand, while an amazing two feet stood in Sejun’s toilet.

“Toilet Leg,” Sejun breathed, horrified.

From the way Byungchan looked at him, he could tell his insides were squirming only slightly, slightly less than Sejun’s were.

“I have more deliveries to run,” Byungchan said softly, balefully, as if at this point even only a paperclip dropping would send him into either a tearful spiral or a fiery rage. “Do you think you could maybe hold onto my socks, for a while?”

Sejun, 24, tired, could only say, “Yeah, I can do that.”

  1. Sejun



Sejun stood outside of Venice Pizza exactly two days after Byungchan had slain a spider for him and had to walk back to the apartment door barefoot, and with his pants rolled up to his calves.

Sejun felt a little bad that he still felt pretty good about this.

“For the record,” Byungchan had sniffed at the door. “I also think you’re extremely cute.”

Then Byungchan had kind of, melancholy, pointed at his own cheek to mean he’d noticed Sejun’s dimple. Then he saluted, and it was only again when he was teetering off on his motorbike that Sejun’s senses decided to return to him.

Sejun pushed through the door to Venice Pizza now. Seungsik, seated at the table with Byungchan, noticed him first and waved. Sejun waved back just as Byungchan turned and again gave off that staccato _Oh!_ that made Sejun smile all the way to his eyes.

“I can’t believe you two knew each other this entire time,” Sejun said to Seungsik, by way of greeting. He formed a ball with his hands in the air, like he was trying to muster energy together. “It would’ve made the ordeal so much less…. Less…”

“Ordeal-y,” Byungchan finished, beaming.

Seungsik only grinned around his bite of pizza. “Sorry for being so out of the loop. I promise to never concentrate on the actual job I’m paid for again, ever.”

“Absolutely correct,” Sejun huffed, but reached out to squeeze his hyung’s shoulder with a smile. “And you—”

“Oh, look at that,” said Seungsik at the obviously dark screen of his phone. “My boss is calling. I’ll have to leave you two alone for this.”

Byungchan and Sejun only watched as Seungsik stepped out of the restaurant, winked subtly at them as he passed the window, and stepped out of sight.

“And me?” said Byungchan pleasantly.

“I have crossed the horizon to see you.”

“I watched Moana, man; I’m no savage.”

“Oh, god, that is literally so good to know. But this is Cinderella business. These aren’t glass slippers or anything but—” Sejun pulled Byungchan’s socks out of his pocket. “They’re freshly washed. And I believe they fit you.”

“Socks generally would,” Byungchan said glibly, but took them from Sejun anyway, eyes sparkling. “And I wouldn’t call myself much of a Cinderella, either.”

Sejun smiled back and finally seated himself in front of Byungchan, where Seungsik had been just a second ago. “Perfect. I was hoping I could, uh, have some coffee sometime with Choi Byungchan, the one who _doesn’t_ work at this restaurant.”

Byungchan’s eyes crinkled shut as he laughed. Sejun watched the dimples cut deep into his cheeks and felt his heart flutter with excitement.

“That would be wonderful,” Byungchan finally said.


End file.
